The Competition
by inatrice
Summary: Malik and Maria get to know each other while Altaïr is away.


Malik leaned heavily against the desk, head in his hand, massaging his temples gently. He'd had a headache since Altaïr disappeared four days ago; off in one of his moods, he supposed. He sat in the anteroom attached to Altaïr's chamber, grumpily looking over all the work the Grandmaster had left for him. He cursed under his breath and leaned back in his chair, throwing his quill against the scroll, not caring that he left an ink stain on his work. Stupid. Idiotic. What kind of Grandmaster left his order, unannounced on top of it all, for his lover and wife to clean up his messes?

He started when the door opened and Maria walked in carrying a sleeping Darim. The boy was getting big, nearly a year old now. He looked so much like his mother; paler skin, lighter hair, light eyes. Malik had initially held a sort of hatred for the child, he couldn't help it. But now it was hard not to love the child in a way. His eyes narrowed as he watched Maria walk into her husband's chamber to put the boy down for a nap. Yes he was jealous and angry, who wouldn't be? Altaïr had come home after time away with a pregnant woman after he had sworn to be Malik's and only Malik's. Not publicly, of course, but in stolen moments in the halls and in the throes of passion in the middle of the night. He had trusted Altaïr and then _she_ happened.

Maria walked back out and came over to the desk, an even expression on her face. "Left all the work to you again, did he?" Malik just stared at her, eyes still narrowed. She sighed silently but he saw the movement in her shoulders. "I miss him." She admitted, sitting on the desk, her voice light. "You probably miss him more than I do." She picked up one of the papers, eyes dancing over the script she was still struggling to learn. "He was yours to begin with."

That made Malik pause. He could see she was trying to make peace, if not for her than to appease Altaïr in some way. He did not want to fall for this. "Was? He still _is_ mine, woman."

Maria rolled her eyes and took in a breath. Whether or not she was tired of the argument or really didn't believe Malik's words was unclear. "I do not know the last time he was with you," Maria hissed, turning on him, eyes full of fire. "But the night before he left he fucked me -"

Malik stood in an explosion of movement and grabbed at her dress, pulling her close so they were nose to nose. "I know for a _fact _he was not with you the night before he left because I did not hear you howling like a bitch like you always do to rub it in my face."

Maria smirked, an amused laugh bubbling out of her as her eyes looked him up and down. "Fiery aren't we?" Malik released her and took a step back, words suddenly lost in confusion. Maria swung her legs over the desk and slid off so she was standing in front of him. She took a step forward but he held his ground. "He has told me you don't like women. Have you ever been with one?"

"Of course I have." Malik retorted quickly. "Being with Altaïr is just that much more fun. Satisfying." He knew this woman held a formidable presence, though it had never been fully shown to him until this moment. Perhaps now he was not quite as surprised as to why Altaïr had taken a liking to her.

"So you have only ever been with Altaïr?" She asked, running her hand lightly down his chest. He took a moment as he always did to appreciate the way she said his name; it was funny the way it rolled off of her tongue, her accent obvious though they were speaking French.

"Besides the women I used to discover that I preferred men? Yes, he is the only one." Malik admitted. He put his hand over hers to still it and she looked up at him mischievously.

Maria took another step forward and Malik took one back. "Loyal," She said, half to herself. "Almost to a fault with you isn't it?" Another step. "I can see why he would like that." She turned her hand so their fingers laced together. "But what is it about you that he would leave my bed to satisfy his needs?"

"I should ask the same of you." He replied hotly, squeezing her hand until he could feel her bones grinding together.

Maria gave him a calculating look, no pain apparent, before she stood on her toes and kissed him. Malik surprised himself by not immediately shying away. He had to admit he was curious; and if she was instigating, he was at lesser fault, wasn't he?

Maria pushed at him and he pushed back causing them to tilt off balance. Their kiss broke as they fell onto the pillows that Altaïr kept next to the window for reading. Malik turned so that Maria landed on top of him and not the other way around. She smiled wickedly at him before kissing him again and he kissed her unabashedly back. It wasn't really a kiss, it was more of a clash of lips and teeth; the one way they knew they could fight and understand all at the same time. He wanted to understand why Altaïr was so attracted to this woman … and perhaps he was enjoying this just a bit.

There was nothing gentle in what they were doing. Their lips bruised and their hands tangled and pulled at each other's hair. Before he knew it, Malik felt Maria's fingers on his skin, pushing his robes off. Her hands felt so small and delicate compared to the damaged and calloused giants he was used to. Before he knew it, Malik was splayed underneath her, bared for her greedy eyes. "Well, I can definitely see why he likes this." Her hands were milky against his dusky skin and he wondered if his body was going to react to her advances. But then she slid down and wrapped her lips around his cock and he didn't have to wonder anymore. His back arched and he let out a small groan, his hand flying to his mouth in an effort to muffle himself.

Maria sucked for a few moments before pulling off of him. She started pulling at her dress and he reached out to help get it over her head. He took a second to appreciate her pale skin and the curves she had. He might prefer men, but a woman's body was still a beautiful thing. Malik ran his hand down her chest, pausing to tease her breast as she straddled him.

Something took over him then and he managed to flip them over. Maria reached up and touched his face and he kissed her fingertips as he situated himself before entering her. They both moaned at sensation and they looked each other in the eye for a few seconds before she gave him a little nod and he started moving. It was different, good but different. Malik hadn't been with a woman in years. He ran a hand down her body, the softness of her features standing out to him. He was used to a hard, muscular assassin and this … well this was nice. Maria moaned again as his hips sped up with the heat building within him. Malik watched her face, her eyes closing with her growing pleasure. Maria's hands tangled in his hair and she pulled him down to kiss his lips hungrily. He shuddered when he came and he bit her shoulder to try and keep himself quiet. Maria looked up at him, breathing hard. She grinned and pushed him so that she was on top again. Malik couldn't help the small laugh that escaped as he looked up at her. He ran his hand up and down her side as she moved, bringing herself to climax.

Maria put her hands on either side of Malik's head, nearly doubled over, moaning, as she rode out her orgasm. Malik watched her, eyes wide. They paused when a noise came from Altaïr's chamber. Maria grabbed Malik's djellaba and threw it over her shoulders, watching the door to see if Darim would walk out. When nothing happened after a few minutes, the two of them relaxed. Maria looked down at Malik and they both started giggling as the adrenaline drained from their systems. Maria sighed and shifted so she could lie down. Malik smiled to himself as his lover's wife snuggled into his right side. She reached out her hand and ran it across his chest and Malik drew nonsense designs on her pale shoulder. Her fingers traveled across his skin until she reached his left shoulder and down what remained of his arm. He tensed, only used to Altaïr seeing it.

"He did that to you," She said quietly, fingers tracing the scars. "And you still love him?"

Malik lay there quietly for a few moments, eyes clouding as he returned to that day in Solomon's Temple. "He changed." He finally admitted.

Maria raised her head and looked at him confused. "Surely he could not have changed that much? I do not think I could forgive anyone if they had done anything like that to me."

"You did not know him then. I doubt you would even recognize him." Malik sighed and looked down at her. "Besides, you were a Templar; a sworn enemy who we were ordered to kill. You changed. He loves you."

Maria's brow furrowed and she lay her head back down on his shoulder. She moved her hand back to rest on his chest. They were silent for a long time, simply laying there lost in thought, their fingers lazily grazing each other's cooling skin.

"I think … I am beginning to see what he does." Malik admitted quietly. "In you."

Maria looked up at him, a small smirk growing on her lips. "I believe I am beginning to see it too." She said eventually. "Though I may need another time or two to fully understand."

Malik chuckled lightly. "Maybe even get him involved next time." He suggested.

They both laughed, Maria grinning at the idea. "I think he would like that. All of us together. He hates it when we fight."

"Yes, and with that damned Apple ... I hate causing him more trouble than is necessary." He felt Maria nodding her agreement. He looked down to her. "I cannot say we will never fight again," He said, giving her a genuine smile. "But I think this is a step in the right direction."


End file.
